


Eyeing the Mouse

by Prinzenhasserin



Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Extra Treat, Having to Stay Quiet/Quiet Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 19:24:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14385480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/pseuds/Prinzenhasserin
Summary: Jim hasn't had a satisfying wank since the time he stepped on this ship, and there comes a time when a teenager has to. And of course Silver has eyes everywhere.





	Eyeing the Mouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GloriousGoblinQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriousGoblinQueen/gifts).



> I saw your prompts, and was immediately inspired to write this. Hope you enjoy!

Jim left the mess deck quietly, trying not to disturb any of the sleeping spacefarers. He was restless; had been restless since earlier, and not even the usual sleeping noises of the berth could calm him down. He had hoped the night would be able to settle him, like it did the past weeks, but he had clearly arrived at the limits his body could take. It was entirely normal for a boy his age to be so incredible horny, but it didn’t help that he couldn’t find relief in the crowded rooms or behind the flimsy lee cloths.

The first few days the hard work had helped, had managed to make the urge almost disappear behind the exhaustion and the satisfaction of a job well done. There had only been smaller incidents, like the time he handled a potato, and grew hard because somehow the skin reminded him of a nipple. 

It was difficult, being a teenager, and usually he could manage to reign in his urges by masturbating loudly and often. The problem with being on a ship, though; of sleeping in a room full of strangers who would laugh at him at the drop of a pin for much less embarrassing matters, was that there was no privacy. 

The first night he had tried to sneak out to gaze at the stars—and maybe beat one out while he was at it—but the night shift had caught him, brought him to Silver, who had him peeling potatoes until he had fallen asleep on top of the barrel. He hadn't tried for days after that, hoping that not masturbating daily would manage to kill the urge somehow, but it hadn't and now here he was. Trying to sneak out again, so that he could finally have a session to himself again.

He was now better acquainted with how things worked on the ship. He managed to pass by the snoring Scroop, then pressed himself against the planks as the voices of Silver and Mr. Turnbuckle came floating by. If he was caught by anyone, it would be Silver, who had taken an extraordinary interest in him, and seemed to have instructed the rest of the crew to take all matters of discipline up with him.

It was strange, how much comfort he derived from that. The big, strong frame of Silver was always breathtaking, and somehow, whenever Jim thought of him, he felt a strange kind of kinship. Jim would notice his powerfully built frame a lot in the tiny kitchen, had to move out of the way of his sturdy, muscular arms, and felt tiny next to him. 

Silver managed to move through the kitchen with fluid grace, even with his peg leg, and half his body replaced by machinery. Jim would anticipate his touch—because Silver touched him often. He touched him to move him aside, to teach him how to scale a fish, to keep him in place while Silver was pulling out kitchenware and an axe. 

Mostly, the touch didn't help with the constant excitement caused by his teenage hormones. 

Sometimes, he got distracted thinking about Silver enveloping him with his arms in a different setting, and then the potato nipples were a welcome distraction, even if neither provided relief.

Jim had been thinking about the space he had found beside the main mast, a little closet that housed the ropes, and was left alone unless there was an emergency with the sails. And sail emergency were always signalled by the change in gravity—something Jim would surely notice even in the throws of orgasm. He still had to be quiet about it, of course—and arrive there, without being bother by the first mate or any of the other guys who would only embarrass him, maybe laughing about his boner.

Jim managed to cross the deck without being noticed by anyone, and made himself comfortable, but not too comfortable, in the small space. It was larger than he thought, probably comfortably fitting three people, but the walls were rough and the air smelled of the salt crystals that would spray against the solar sails. 

He sat down on a roll of rope— the bite of it strangely comforting on his ass, and then he dropped his pants. He had almost forgotten how his dick looked, and it was certainly a relief to see it unchanged. Maybe it was a bit larger? He could only hope.

The first touch felt almost too good, edging into painful territory. He licked his hand for at least some lubrication, and thought longingly of the oil Silver had in his kitchen. Silver would kill him if he found out Jim wanted to use the scarce oil on his dick—maybe he had even better lube stashed somewhere else, to oil up his joints. 

Silver had rough, talented hands. They would surely be useful at a time like this. He’d know how to use oil, and he was certainly talented with his hands. Jim tugged harder at his dick, tried replicating his usual wank fantasies he had seen in the magazines the crew handled often, but his thoughts kept returning back to Silver. The way he would stand over him, probably have very helpful if humiliating tips on his technique and the way his tugging could be made so much more efficient. His deep voice, telling him what to do.

"Stop being so sullen," Silver would say to him, and Jim could imagine his breath right behind him. He used his left hand, so that it felt different to his usual wanks, but his hands were too small to replicate the feeling he’d get from Silver’s hands on his dick. Jim moaned at the thought; then realised he could have been heard and stopped breathing.

The hand on his dick didn't pause, but most of his attention was on the space in front of him, hoping to all the gods that nobody had been on the deck to hear his groans. 

"Did ya hear that?" the deep vibrating voice of Silver asked. "That... sound."

Another voice, one Jim couldn't place as well as the familiar voice of Silver, replied, "It's probably just mice getting into the ropes, let it be."

"Rogers, you know as well as I do that mice don't stop at the ropes..." Silver said, his voice coming nearer. And so was Jim, his climax imminent. He couldn't stop now, could he? It was impossible for him, who had hungered for relief for so long.

The door opened. Jim looked wide-eyed, his hand on his dick, at the gleaming eyes of Silver. It was dark in the alcove, but Silver's eye had night vision— Jim knew that because Silver had touted his many advantages over regular humans like Jim. From the way he spoke, one could think he had lost half his body on purpose, so he could have it reworked with better, mechanical parts.

"What is it?" the other voice asked.

"I found the little mouse," Silver replied. Jim was coming, was smearing come all over the ropes, and Silver was watching him intently, inscrutable.

"Well, are you going to deal with it or not?" the voice whined.

"I think the mouse has trapped himself quite nicely in ropes," Silver said, and closed the door. Jim could only hope that Silver would leave it alone, would let him be in peace. He could hear them negotiate in front of the door—then, the other voice left. He was still hard, possibly even harder than before. He had never felt like this before.

Silver came back into the closet, filling the space with his hulking shoulders. "The tiny mouse is still not finished, I see," he said, and stared at Jim’s erection. Jim was red in the face, and flushed all over. He had come with Silver watching him, and yet the fear of being discovered had not managed to hold him back from tipping over the edge. He was desperate, come all over the front of his pants, and not thinking straight, that was the only reason he could think for not having packed his dick back into his pants and shuffled back to his hammock. He stopped trying to pull another orgasm from himself, under Silver's scrutinising gaze. His dick, not having gone with the program, twitched.

"Well, yer clearly not getting anywhere on yer own," Silver said. And was this straight out of every one of his fantasies? Because Silver continued—"Let me do it."

How could Jim refuse an offer he secretly wanted more than anything? And then, there was Silver's rough hand on Jim's dick, almost double the size of his own, and it was better than anything he could have imagined.

"What a cute little mouse," Silver said, and rubbed his thumb over the precum escaping from the head. Somehow, when Silver was doing it, the roughness felt good, felt like it was amplifying the feelings, instead of disrupting them. His rhythm was unusual, not something Jim was used to. "It looks like you haven't had a good wank in quite some time, if you’re still this hard." Silver commented. "You are very thirsty for me. Or is it the secrecy?"

Jim, who felt wrung out by being discovered, who couldn't quite manage to do the right thing and stop, but it had worked out so much better this way, with Silver's hand on his cock, getting him off, talking to him like he wasn't a deviant for thinking about it, thinking about him constantly, was trembling with suppressed desire.

He felt weak, and there was the comforting warmth of Silver's big body right next to him, where it always was, ever since the day he had first stepped into the man's kitchen. And so he leaned against the muscles, feeling the pounding of his heart in his ears. He felt like he could sink into the giant mass at his back, the strong wide muscles of his forearms—Silver brought them forward, used another one of gadgets to drip oil all over Jim's dick, and hadn't he been fantasising about just that oil? 

Then, Silver traded the tube for a rubber contraption, looking like a sucking glass. It wrapped around Jim’s dick completely. Soft, velvety, the thing felt like heaven.

Jim's field of vision went white, and he might've blacked out a little. When he came to again, Silver was sucking long white stripes off of his hand. 

"I haven't had such fun hunting a mouse in a long time," he said, and smirked. "If the mouse needs another lesson on how to play with his little cock, then the mouse doesn't need to hide in the supply closet—I sleep in the kitchen." 

And then he slapped the hand that had just been on Jim's dick against his back, and left the suddenly rather small room. 

Jim picked up his pants, and tried finding his dignity, before he sneaked down into the large room full of sailors again. He was definitely going to join Silver's cabin for some fun, but later, once he got this terrible crush under more control.


End file.
